


extra credit

by thermodynamicActivity (chlorinetrifluoride)



Series: The Collegestuck 'Verse [17]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Gen, Humanstuck
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-03
Updated: 2016-08-03
Packaged: 2018-07-29 03:33:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7668511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chlorinetrifluoride/pseuds/thermodynamicActivity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You assign Kankri all sorts of books to read and analyze as extra credit. The more he reads, the less he’ll talk about things he does not understand nearly as well as he thinks he does. The more, perhaps, he’ll actually understand. It’s how it worked with you. What you don't expect is for three other students to demand the same opportunity to gain extra credit in your class. One of them, perhaps. But certainly not the others.</p><p>You give them readings, and have them write response papers. You don't expect to learn nearly as much as you do from the exercise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	extra credit

**Author's Note:**

> this is going to update very sporadically

**2005 - Krishna Vandayar**  
  
You assign Kankri all sorts of books to read and analyze as extra credit. The more he reads, the less he’ll talk about things he does not understand nearly as well as he thinks he does. The more, perhaps, he’ll actually understand. It’s how it worked with you.

Maybe he’ll realize that silence, that listening, that taking in information can be just as revolutionary as the unceasing lecture. That education is a give and take experience.

He is teaching you each day he walks into your class. Some days you learn how to be a more effective communicator. Other days you ask yourself if this is how _you_ sounded when you were sixteen.

Mother informs you, gently, but firmly, that you were not far off.

Some lessons are easier to swallow than others.

You must never assume you have all the answers, you tell him. There lies the path of folly and dogmatism, no matter how well-intentioned you may be. He nods, he writes it down, but you wonder if he actually _understands._

That’s what gives you the idea to assign him the readings. You’re selecting them as you go along, and you notify him of this. He does not need to trade his unflinching belief in himself for an unflinching belief in you.

Once Porrim, and Latula get wind that you’re giving Kankri extra reading, they demand that you afford them the same opportunity to achieve high(er) marks. You welcome them (and Mituna) into your classroom the way you always do, even if it is getting along in the afternoon, with dark approaching, and you have a headache.

Porrim’s indignant figure in your classroom is one you nearly expected; you’re actually a little surprised it took her two whole days to show up, but Latula’s presence is rather interesting.

(Marisol insists to you that she’s smarter than she lets on, and Latula’s skill on the debate team supports that statement, and yet Latula only ever hands work this side of satisfactory for your class. Good enough to show you that she’s conscious - in the most basic sense of the word - during the period but not enough to display evidence of further consciousness.)

As for Mituna? 

You’re almost positive he’s only here because the two girls he hangs around with most are standing at your desk ready to argue with you. Still, you nearly laugh to see three students in your classroom at this time, none of them Kankri.

“And all of you wish to be assigned this extra reading?”

“Uh,” Mituna starts up.

This is where he tells you that he’s only here to provide emotional support, that his schedule is already crammed with Physics and handball related exploits, you’re sure of it. Yet, you stop erasing the board and turn to give him your full and undivided attention.

“Yes?”

“Like, this is extra credit, right?”

“That is correct.”

“So, um, if we fuc–if we mess anything up, like, we don’t lose any points on our averages or anything?”

You chuckle a little, in spite of yourself.

“You need not censor yourself now, class is no longer in session,” you reply. “But to deduct points would defeat the purpose of extra credit, would it not?”

He shrugs. “I guess. You’re the teacher, Mr. V.”

God, you loathe that. You know it’s what students do -  _what they have been trained to do, particularly the high achieving ones -_ that automatic deference to authority, but you also know that out of this trio, he is the one who raises the most hell outwardly.

In and out of detention, even if his grades are good.

But he shakes his bangs out of his eyes, fixes you in that mismatched stare, and you can see the plea therein. He is not like Kankri, or Porrim, or even Latula. His average in your class is hovering somewhere between a 70 and a 72. This isn’t a mere academic exercise for him, or if it is, it is one more serious.

You shake the chalk dust from your hands, careful not to get any of it on your turtleneck or your blazer. Your mother would be disappointed if you did. If you're remembering correctly, she made both articles of clothing for you.

“Then I assure you, I will not take off any points for anything you write. You can only gain credit from these assignments.”

“Good looks, man,” he says. “Count me in.” He glances from Porrim to Latula. “And them too, probably.”

“Babe, that went without saying,” Latula says.

Porrim snorts, but is quick to compose herself.

“I would be elated to complete any material you wish to assign,” she tells you, sounding painfully sincere, probably unaware of the fact that she’s unconsciously begun to lean in toward you. 

If Simon could see you right now, he’d be dead on the floor. Latula makes a small motion behind Porrim’s head as if making to reel her back in by her numerous braids.

You do your best to maintain your composure and not to grin.

“Wonderful. All of you can expect your first assignments tomorrow.”

The two girls start to leave, but Mituna extends his fist, and it takes you a moment to realize that he expects daps. You oblige, and only then does he take off after them. 

_“Wait, Tula, hold up! My shit’s still in your locker!”_

The minute you can no longer hear their footsteps echoing down the hallway floor is when you _do_ crack and laugh yourself silly. 


End file.
